


What Is It Good For?

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [72]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”2015 Christmas Drabble Collection





	

The man was to be king, and yet he never spurned the likes of you. He seated himself close to you, had ridden through the Shire and the Borderlands with you for years - since you had been a young child, in a Ranger’s party. Aragorn had been someone that you had looked up to, admired even, since your youth.

So now in a land completely foreign to the pair of you, with steel ready for battle and armor too constricting to be easily manageable should an enemy come to you. But you had vowed on your eighteenth name day to fight alongside your crownless King, even if it killed you. You would not take back your oath now.

Yet, he would live a world without you, drawn to the stretches of time with his elven bride that you could not have ever dreamt of trying to compete with. He was with her as you always wished he’d be with you.

“You do not have to go to battle, Y/N,” Aragorn said quietly.

“I must,” you spoke simply, leaving no room for him to argue. “I’ve made a promise to you, and I never intended to keep it.”

“Many will die.”

“And some will not.”

Aragorn said nothing, and you were grateful he didn’t. At dawn, as the riders readied themselves for battle, you mounted before searching out the dark king. But he was nowhere to be found. Not by the breakfast foods that made your stomach growl in starving hunger, not in the armory, or in Helm’s Deep’s protected crypt.

He was nothing more than a ghost, it appeared. Already you had been given the heartbreak of him disappearing into the ravine with the warg, but it had been here at Helm’s Deep that he had been able to mend it, though silently and without even knowing.

Aragorn was on the front steps, talking to a young boy that was no more than a child, and too young for war. As he ran off, either from your presence or from something Aragorn had said, you were not sure. But you got down from your horse, and approached him.

“They are nothing more than children.”

“I wasn’t more than that, once,” you admitted as you sat with him on the stairs, as close as you dared. “Fighting for my life with a quiver of arrows and a horse, leaving behind the only family I had ever known to follow a man that was rightfully king.”

“Why?” Aragorn questioned. And he seemed lost. “Why did you do that?”

You had only one reason. But you had not mustered up the courage to say it just yet. “I had something to believe in. Something I knew would keep me going, even when things seemed dark. You were a man that’s not quite man, with a title you can’t quite bear, and a name you can scarce speak. A throne you came into when you were young.”

“Your father never forgave me for accepting you into my travels.”

“I’m alive,” you admitted. “The same can’t be said for most of the rangers now. Many died with the Orcs coming down on the villages.” He knew.

“These children have no experience in battle. You were raised with it, but that boy probably has only known how to bake bread. Not how to wield a sword.”

You swallowed. “The battle will start soon.” Aragorn knew. The sun had not yet reached midday, but he knew. You had to say it now, before you had no chance. You could already see Legolas approaching, to tell him that they were needed at their stations. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”

Aragorn glanced to you sharply, and you met his gaze for a moment before standing. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“I was young and naive, with a dream of a king that treated me as his equal, and perhaps one day more.” You gave him a wry and sad smile. “We do not know how this battle will end, and I do not wish to take away anything you feel for Arwen, who I know you love deeply.” You gave a firm nod, as if deciding it. “But I would never forgive myself if I kept it quiet any longer, and died today.”

“Y/N, you should have… All these years and that’s why you’ve stayed by my side?”

You snorted. “Like I said, I was young and naive, and I had a dream. But not all dreams come true. What is love good for, other than heartbreak and pain?” You watched as he frowned, his gaze lowering to your shoes, muddy and caked in things that you weren’t quite sure where they came from. “I could not go into this battle without saying it, just once. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m… I’m sorry,” Aragorn admitted. “That I … I’m sorry I do not feel the same.”

This time you gave him a warm smile, surprising him. “I know. I’ve always known. But it’s alright. I… I’ve long accepted that.” He stood quickly, taking your arm as you turned away.

“Y/N,” he said quickly. When you glanced back, your heart betraying your words of resolution, he hesitated. “Be careful… out there. Don’t get yourself killed. I always need you to watch my back.”

You smirked. “You wouldn’t survive a minute without me, Strider. Believe me, I’ll take care of myself.”

He seemed confused, still, but he released your hand, and you gave a nod to Legolas as he approached, before mounting your horse once more. You would be taking the gates, and the others would be at the ramparts.

“I mean it, Y/N. Don’t do anything foolish.”

You grinned at the pair of the elven raised men. One elf themselves, and one a mix of elf and man. “Do I ever?”


End file.
